


In the Summertime

by havisham



Category: Original Work
Genre: Benevolent Ghosts, Bittersweet Ending, Campfire stories, Childhood, Friendship, Gen, Murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-07 06:09:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16402751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/havisham/pseuds/havisham
Summary: This summer was going to be different, Becca promised herself. Her skin had cleared up since she started on this new medication and she’d begun to really put herself out there, making new friends and experiencing new things. Like signing up to be a camp counselor at Camp Sunnyside during the Campus Activities Fair. The Old Becca Torres would’ve never done that.





	In the Summertime

**Author's Note:**

  * For [afterism](https://archiveofourown.org/users/afterism/gifts).



This summer was going to be different, Becca promised herself. Her skin had cleared up since she started on this new medication and she’d begun to really put herself out there, making new friends and experiencing new things. Like signing up to be a camp counselor at Camp Sunnyside during the Campus Activities Fair. The Old Becca Torres would’ve never done that. She would’ve felt weird and awkward, signing up for camp when she’d never gone herself. Growing up, her parents couldn't afford to send her away anywhere -- summers had always been devoted to reading at the library, playing in the park, and staying close to home.

Camp Sunnyside, on the other hand, couldn’t be farther from home. It was in the very corner of the state -- hours from anywhere and as remote a location as it could get. One of the head counselors said that on the other side of the lake was Canada, but Becca had heard the actual border was at least ten miles north of there. Whatever it was, it was beautiful country, full of trees and lakes and a sky that seemed too wide to comprehend. At night, there were so many more stars in the sky than Becca could’ve ever imagined. 

Becca wished she could draw or paint or write how the sky and the landscape made her feel. She wasn’t a particularly creative person, so she always felt like she was grasping at straws when it came to things like that. But then the kids came, and she didn’t have the time or the energy to do anything but try to keep up with them. 

Becca’s group, otherwise known as Cabin Buttercup, consisted of five eleven and twelve year old girls from all over the country. There was Addison, who was from Saint Paul (like Becca was), but also Olivia, who was from Atlanta, Yasmin from Scottsdale, Harley from Eau Claire and finally, Lise from Portland (the Oregon one, she took pains to remind people, not the one in Maine.) All of the girls were nice and friendly, and no one seemed to notice how nervous Becca was to meet them. That was very good. Maybe Becca was better at this adulthood thing than she could’ve ever dreamed. 

Cabin Buttercup was a cabin that was farthest from the rest of the campsite -- you had to cross the lacrosse field to get over to where the mess and activities center was. On the upside, they had their own washroom and facilities, as it would’ve been too onerous otherwise. 

The sign-in sheet Becca had been given at the start had one other name on it -- a Maggie Talmadge from Spokane, but after orientation, it seemed like Maggie was a no-show. Fitz, one of the other counselors, told Becca this was pretty normal to have one or two drop-outs in between the counselor's orientation and when the kids arrived. 

Of course, that made sense. Becca laughed. “I had a best friend growing up whose name was Maggie. God, I haven’t thought of her in years.” 

Becca and Maggie had been best friends from age eight to eleven -- they were thick as thieves, Becca’s mom would say. But then, without warning, Maggie’s family moved away and Becca was left behind. It was incredible, but Maggie never contacted her after that -- never called, never wrote a letter or an email. Becca felt like she’d been alone in liking Maggie as much as she had. Obviously, her feelings had not been returned. 

Becca pushed away those bad feelings and focused on what was in front of her: looking after of the kids in her care and trying to have as much fun as possible. 

And she did exactly that -- the season started off without any major incidents. The girls seemed to grow closer together and they were likely to be voted camp’s Best Cabin. There was a lot riding on that vote -- the Best Cabin got an ice cream party at the end of the summer and the counselor got a nice bonus. 

It was during a macramé workshop when Addison mentioned the knocking. “Did anyone go out last night?” she asked, picking at her God’s Eye pattern in an eye-searing combo of hot pink and neon green. “I kept hearing knocking, but no one said anything when I asked who it was.” 

The table was quiet. Becca felt all the eyes on her. She cleared her throat. “I didn't hear anything, but you all know that if you wake up in middle of the night, you can always come to me and I'll help you. Right?” 

The girls agreed with various degrees of attention.

“Actually,” said Yasmin, “I heard it too. But it wasn't the first time. Someone keeps knocking on the wall beside my bed. Actually, I thought it was you, Addie, since you sleep on the bottom bunk.” 

“It wasn't! I wouldn't!” Addison said quickly. 

“Hey guys, remember what we talked during orientation?” Becca said. “About conflict resolution? If Addie says she wasn't knocking, we believe her. And when Yaz says she heard it, we believe her too. Let's just take care of each other, OK?” 

“Okay,” said the girls. 

That night, after lights off, Becca stayed awake. There was a podcast -- about something boring but soothing, like the science and history of food playing softly on her phone -- but she wasn't listening to it. She was waiting for the knocking to start. 

And sure enough, ten minutes after midnight, it started. 

It began softly at first, as if the knocker wasn't sure of herself. There was a soft thud against the cabin door, as if someone had gently laid their open palm against it. Then, after a moment, the knock started in earnest, moving from the door to around the exterior of the cabin. It was, very obviously, not one of the campers who wanted to get inside. 

Becca got out of bed but stopped short when she realized one of the campers was awake too. Addison was looking at her with wide eyes from the bottom bulk. 

“Do you hear it?” she whispered. 

Becca thought about denying it, telling her to go back to bed. But she wasn't going to be that kind of adult, she knew. “Yeah. I heard it.” 

“Yaz was right.” 

“Addie, stay right here, OK? I'm gonna check outside.” 

The knocking that been on the other side of the cabin was coming, slowly but inexorably, towards their side. 

“I'm going with you,” Addison said, springing out of bed and slipping a small hand into Becca’s. Becca sighed and went with it. 

The air outside was cool, like it was October rather than August. The moon was full enough that the area around the cabin was well-illuminated, every tree and bush thrown into sharp relief. There was no one outside. Everything was hushed and quiet, as if waiting for something to happen. 

Becca made a slow circuit around the cabin, but couldn't find anything. There were no footprints on the gravel outside the cabin, nothing to show that anyone had been walking around out here. When she got back to the door, Addison was waiting for her. 

“It must've been a woodpecker,” Becca said doubtfully. That was when the door to the cabin slammed shut and the girls inside started screaming. 

Frantic, Becca and Addison tried to open the door. Becca was certain that she'd left the door open and unlocked when she had left the cabin, and she didn't think Addison had done anything with the lock either. But why didn't the door open?

Becca tried calling for the girls on the other side of the door, but after the initial screaming, they had gone quiet. Just as Becca was about to give up and sending Addison for help, the door swung open -- like it had never been locked in the first place. 

Inside, all the campers were fast asleep. 

*

“Oh yeah, didn't they tell you? Cabin Buttercup is haunted,” said Fitz. “They always hand it off to the new kid -- I think it's shitty, but I guess someone has to live there.” 

Becca stared at him. Even two cups of coffee and big breakfast hadn't really penetrated through the haze she was under. The strong summer sunshine helped, a little, but she was still having trouble processing what Fitz was saying. 

“What do you mean, haunted? Why would it be haunted?” 

Fitz, who had been smiling a little and looking at his phone, suddenly looked serious. “So you don't know about the murders either? Geez, Becca. I thought everyone who signed up to Camp Sunnyside knew about it.” 

“No,” Becca said evenly. “Tell me about it.” 

There really wasn’t much to tell -- just that Camp Sunnyside had been the scene of a terrible triple homicide a decade ago and that had ruined the camp’s reputation for a while, before it got new owners, a new name, and new locks on all the cabins. 

“But who did it? And who died?” 

“Look,” Fitz said, “I’m going to be in trouble for saying as much. Don’t worry about it, OK? It was years ago. Whoever did it is long gone. You have nothing to worry about.” 

Well. Becca just knew this wouldn’t do -- at all. 

*

It was impossible to get data in the backwoods, but the main office did have a satellite internet connection. Becca left her girls doing a group activity with another cabin and decided to go over there during lunch. As expected, the place was deserted and she slipped into the office and got searching. 

When she read the names of the victims, her heart sank. And when she realized that the killer had never been caught, her heart froze. 

*

That night, Becca couldn’t sleep. She expected the knocking to start at any time, but nothing happened. The cabin was quiet except for the sound of sleeping kids. Despite that, Becca couldn’t get herself to relax. She kept thinking of the name of one of the victims, the name that she recognized -- as well as the grainy photo from the sixth grade yearbook that accompanied the newspaper article from a decade ago. 

One of the victims of the Camp Ivanhoe Massacre had been Maggie Salley, her childhood best friend. 

Looking at what happened, Becca wasn’t surprised that her parents had kept it from her. It was incredibly heavy knowledge to bear, and she wasn’t even sure if her younger self would’ve been able to handle it. Wasn't it easier to think that Maggie had moved away one summer and just didn’t want to be friends anymore, rather than being killed so horribly, with her killer still out there somewhere? 

Becca didn’t know. She tried to remember all she could about Maggie, but only bits and pieces -- like how long Maggie’s hair had been, and soft, and brown. Her mother used to brush it a hundred times before she went to bed, a fact that had always struck Becca as both touching and odd. Her own mother, tired from twelve hour swift at the call center, wouldn’t have done that. 

But Maggie had been the only girl in a family of boys. She had been precious and cherished. And then, she had been snatched away. Becca couldn’t sleep for the rest of the night, haunted by ghosts of the past. 

*

All the same, Becca knew she had to take care of her girls. As summer lurched closer to the end, activity picked up -- both in the competition for the best cabin, and with their ghost, now affectionately called Betty. Betty would come after dark and knock on the door. One of the girls -- Becca never knew which one -- would dart out and open the door before she could stop them. 

Once inside, Betty would hover by the door, an invisible but noticeable presence inside the cabin. Betty didn’t mean any harm, it seemed. She was just -- lonely. It was terribly lonely, out there in the woods. Eventually her presence faded, and life would go back to normal. Sort of. 

Except -- well, for the fact that ghosts existed and wanted to hang out for a while. 

Except for that. 

*

The morning of the final contest for the best cabin dawned grey and dull. As Becca herded the girls to the main mess hall, she studied the sky worriedly. They had gone over the emergency procedure in case of severe weather, but that had been back in June. It was too far north to worry about tornadoes, right? 

Then, the sky above them turned dark and a streak of lightning lit up the sky. Thunder cracked through the air. Something had been hit, close by. “Hurry up, get into the hall,” Becca said, herding her girls and the other campers into the mess. It had begun to rain outside, hard little pellets of rain. There could be no doubt that the competition -- and celebrations -- planned for the day was canceled. 

During the headcount over breakfast, Becca noticed something was wrong. Addison and Yasmin, despite having been there when they’d left the cabin, were now missing. 

“Where's Yaz? And Addie?” Becca caught Olivia and Lise exchanging glances. “Guys, is there something you want to tell me?” 

After a short silence, Lise said, in a tiny voice, “Addie went back to the cabin and Yas went with her. She’d forgotten her lucky rabbit’s foot.” 

“Fuck,” Becca said, and tried to ignore the shocked look on her girls’ faces. “Hey! Fitz!” She waved Fitz over and explained the situation. They decided to head out and get the girls back -- Fitz had a walkie-talkie that could contact the head-counselor. They made slow progress through the mud and the rain, but finally the cabin was within sight. 

The door was gaping open, the dark inside mesmerizing. 

Becca stormed through it, shouting the girls’ names. She only had a second to hear Fitz’ shout before the back of her head exploded in pain. 

*

Maggie’s room was pink and filled with roses. She had a white bookcase near her bed, where she kept her porcelain dolls and horse figurines. On days Becca would come over to her house, they would play with her dolls, especially Samantha, the antique porcelain doll that Maggie’s great-aunt had given her. 

Becca loved these afternoons -- filled with quiet concentration and companionship. Maggie would always let her brush Samantha’s hair, counting it in time. She was doing so now, almost reaching a hundred. 

“Did it hurt, dying?” Becca asked, her eyes not leaving the doll’s waves of golden hair. 

Maggie hummed softly to herself. She was pouring out pretend-tea into Becca’s cup, and then Samantha’s. “It was a long time ago. I forgot a lot of things.” 

“Did you forget me?” Becca asked, even though she knew it was a selfish question. 

“No,” Maggie replied. “Never.” 

“Me neither,” Becca said. “I wish I could --” 

*

She woke up with a gasp. Addison was shaking her awake. “Becca? Are you OK? Please tell me you’re OK!” 

Becca pulled herself up. “I’m -- OK.” She looked around. They were in the cabin, with Yasmin huddled near them. On the other end of the cabin, something dark and large was moving. Becca kept an eye on him while she reached back, trying to find something to defend herself. Her hand closed over something at last, and she stilled. 

“Hey, mister -- what are you doing? Visitors have to register at the front office.” 

The shadow resolved himself into small, beige-looking man. Behind him, it seemed like the shadow only grew stronger. 

“I’m a old friend around here,” he said. “Used to work in the logging mill down the road, before it shut down a while ago.” 

“But why are you _here_?” 

“Some unfinished business,” he said and raised a knife. “You were Maggie’s little friend, weren’t you? Sweet girl, but so fragile --” 

The shadows suddenly enveloped him. Becca, who had really been working on her aim that summer, threw the marshmallow toaster, aiming at his head. Her aim was true -- she hit him in the eye and he screamed. While he was distracted, Becca grabbed the girls and booked it from the cabin. 

She glanced back only once -- just to see a familiar face smiling at her as she ran. 

“Maggie…” 

“What?” Yasmin said. “Becca, you’re bleeding a _lot._ ” 

“It’s fine,” Becca replied, even though it really wasn’t. 

*

The next time Becca came to, she was in a hospital bed, surrounded by flowers and stuffed animals. ‘GET WELL SOON!’ said a hand-painted banner on the wall. She stared at it blankly for moment, before she went back to sleep. 

She didn’t stay at the hospital for long and the furor over the capture of the killer of the Camp Sunnyside murders from a decade ago hadn’t died down. No one knew what made him come back on the last day of camp, but he’d been found, bleeding and half-blind in Cabin Buttercup. He’d never been in the system before -- but his DNA was a match from the bloodstains from a decade ago. 

But Becca didn’t want to know anything to hear about this monster. 

She wanted to see her girls, to make sure that they were okay. 

*

In the last day of camp, she was able to go back -- they were all there -- and she hugged each and one of them. “Thank you,” she told Yasmin and Addison, “You two saved me.” 

“You fucked up that guy’s eye,” Addison said admiringly. “It was some cool shit.” 

“Your mom’s gonna be pissed at me for teaching you how to swear,” Becca said. 

Addison laughed. “Nah, it wasn’t you.” 

Yasmin said, “Do you think -- it was the ghost that --” 

They were all quiet for a moment, before Becca said, “We’re really lucky in a lot of ways. Group hug?” 

*

Before she left Camp Sunnyside for the last time, Becca left a bouquet of sunflowers on the steps of Cabin Buttercup. There was nothing there, not anymore. She didn’t expect anything either. The sun was shining and she had people waiting for her -- but for a moment, Becca stood still and said goodbye -- the goodbye she hadn’t been able to say so long ago. 

And just like that -- summer was over. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my beta!


End file.
